Plane Crash
by Saskia Q
Summary: After their plane crashes in Alaska, Stiles and four other survivors try to stay alive, but a pack of merciless wolves haunts their every step. How far will Stiles be willing to go to stay alive?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dear dad,

I know you always suspected I never fully told you the truth about what happened to me after the plane crash. You were right. I hope that after reading this letter, you will understand, why I had to do what I did.

I suppose I should start at the very beginning, even though, at the time, I didn't know it was the beginning of my own personal hell.

Alone in my room, writing this letter, wearing the scars, inside and outside of what I left behind. When reading this, you will find me gone, gone from this house, gone from this world. Do not think that I have taken this decision lightly.

But let me go back …

Bags packed, plane ticket in hand, goodbyes to my aunt and her third husband. Snowplows grinding outside the house, taxi waiting. Time to go north.

My aunt lives in Anchorage, Alaska. The reason for me being here? My dad insisted someone of our family be present at her third wedding since he could not, sheriff duties preventing him.

At the airfield, I look out the window and see the wind bucking the wings of the plane, scaring the family members come to say goodbye. On board, families behind us, I buckle in, look at the tarmac, watch the snow blow across, waiting for the plane to depart.

As we fly over Alaska's snowy mountains, the view breathtaking, I'm starting to feel turbulence. I can feel my heart start to race. Something is wrong. Everybody grabs their arm-rests, waiting as the plane fights to stay in the air.

I feel my body rock by the sheer velocity as the top of hundred-year-old trees are sheared off. My head snaps forward as the plane continues along a course that tares off its wings and throws the passengers around like rag dolls in a hurricane.

Metal banging and tearing like it's dying, tables drop, lockers pop open and bags, coats, phones, laptops, books fly by and somebody's keys smack me in the face. The windows explode, glass flies everywhere, the plane splits and everything goes dark.

I know I'm alive because there is no way in hell it hurts this much to be dead. I blink several times, waiting for the world to come into focus before shifting my weight and sitting up. I ignore the pain that tells me I'm battered and bruised, but that nothing seems to be broken and I think if I'm breathing at all, I didn't break any ribs.

I can't see where I am at first, but I know I'm outside the plane. Everything is outside the plane. I try to take in my environment through my blurry vision. Cold, dark, moon, snow, scattered pieces of plane, loose seats, bags, bodies, snow falling, trees in the distance, mountains covered in snow.

I see movement up ahead. I'm on my feet and walking, suddenly feeling the cold twice as much. I stop a couple of times and check the bodies I can get to, but nobody I check is alive, the guys ahead of me are the only things moving.

"Can you move?" I ask.

"It hurts." He's barely remembering to breathe. He's freezing. So am I.

"It's good it hurts." I say.

I look at him to see if he understands.

"Oh yeah? Good?" he says. "I'm fucking terrific, then."

"What's bleeding sir?" I ask.

"The name is Matt." He looks down, lifts his shirt, his side and stomach are scratched and cut but it doesn't look bad, just cuts. It's too cold to worry about infection. If there is a fucking bacteria alive in this, it deserves whatever it can get.

I look across the snow to the other guy. Nothing seems wrong with him except he's still unsteady, but no bones sticking out or limbs going the wrong way.

He looks at me.

"You ok?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"I'm Dave." he says.

The cold is drawing the life out of me, we will all die if we don't find shelter soon.

"We should try to get to that leftover plane piece." I suggest.

Dave looks at the distance.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Matt says. He looks like he'd rather die right here.

I just look at them, Dave nods, starts walking.

I stop at the first body we pass. The guy has boots on. I pull them off, his jacket and his sweater too. Dave doesn't say anything. I give the jacket to him. He looks surprised, but takes it.

Of the bodies we can see close to us, it's plain enough they're dead. I should start assuming everybody's dead.

We walk, we don't talk, we're all out of breath. We get up closer and I see it's another big piece of broken airplane tube.

I see two more men sitting in the snow. They look beaten half-to-death. We must look the same, I think.

I can hear yelling from inside the tube. One of the men nods to the hole in the fuselage.

"More in there." he says.

We step closer and see inside. It's chaos, field-hospital, everybody groaning, gasping, swearing, yelling all at once. Near the opening I see a man, missing a hand, blanket around the stump. The woman next to him, leg gone, below the knee, somebody's tied it off for her.

Nobody knows what to do. It's cold like you wouldn't believe, and we're among the dead, and dying. Nobody's thinking clearly.

"We should start a fire."

Nobody moves, or answers, but Dave and Matt nod.

"Any of you smoke? Any of you have lighters?" I ask.

I start going through the pockets of dead guys looking for a lighter and find one, a little plastic disposable. It lights.

We start tearing out loose cushions and piling them in the snow by the opening. I try lighting them, they flare up, six feet high. Some of the guys cheer. It's something I guess. We're alive.

I turn and head out. Dave and the others follow. Matt stays behind with the wounded.

Outside it seems colder than before, and darker in the shadows, but there is still moon on the snow. We keep walking, past more pieces of plane, more dead.

We look and mostly fumble around in the dark for anything that looks like survival or signal stuff, some kind of transponder, but neither of us has any idea what we're looking for. For some reason we expect to find a flare gun or an emergency kit, tents or rations. No such luck.

I keep looking to either side of us, at all the bodies we pass, to see if any of them is moving. None of them are. We go and keep going until we start to see dozens of chunks of wood, thrown here as the plane came through.

Everybody starts gathering wood, dumping it in blankets or just loading up their arms. It doesn't take long, we can't carry much. We start heading back for the fire in the distance.

I find myself staring at the snow, getting breath. I feel like I've been walking in snow for a year and now I've got a blanket full of wood that weighs more the further I drag it.

I turn, look back, another second, a little further into the dark. One of the dead is moving, trying to get up, he looks bad. I let go of the load of wood and start running back to him.

"I'm coming."

I shout and run, as hard as I can, because he's shivering, convulsing.

I see something jump off him. It's a wolf, ripping at the guy, the dead guy. The wolf just stares at me.

I charge at it, screaming. I don't know why I'm charging, but the wolf looks up and stares at me, just watches me come at him. I'm expecting the wolf to twitch, turn tail and jump off the body but he isn't fucking moving, he's just watching me.

Then I'm slammed into the snow by another wolf. I feel something digging into my back, I understand it's another wolf, locked onto the back of my jacket, its dragging me the best it can, and I'm face down in snow. I get half up, almost standing, but he hangs on. I hear him growling.

The other wolf jumps on my back, preventing me from fully getting up. I'm standing with two of them hanging on to me by their jaws, and they aren't letting go. I'm trying to swat with my elbows but I can't see them. I'm trying to smash the wolf on my right, I pull his ear and I bash with my elbow at his head, as hard as I can, like I'm trying to crack his skull. I hear jacket ripping and he's snorting, growling, but he is not flinching except to get a better grip and try to drag me into the direction of the forest.

I look up as the other wolf gets hold of my pants, and I kick as hard as I can before he can sink his teeth in.

I don't think of running because I know they would hunt me down.

I hear yelling coming across the snow, guys charging and boots thumping, my knuckles and my head are getting smashed with lumps of wood. I see Dave with a piece of wood in his hands, swinging, Matt too, but I still have the wolves on me. Then Dave swings his log like a bat and knocks one right off me, and Matt swings his piece of wood down on the other. The wolves release me, turn and face us.

I try to get to my feet but all I do is slip over backwards and hit the snow. I pull up to see where the wolves are. They keep staring at me and ignore Matt and Dave like they are not standing here with their logs, ready to swing. A loud growl sounds from the forest and they just turn and trot off, into the dark.

Finally I move, get up on my feet. Dave and the others look at me like I'm not supposed to get up, because I should be dead.

The wolves are gone, gone from where I can see them.

"Let's get back." I say.

We finally come up to the heat of the fire, what's left of it.

"What the hell happened to you?" The legless woman asks.

"We just saved the boy from two wolves trying to drag him back to their lair."

"Den." Stiles corrects.

"What?" Dave asks.

"Wolves have a den, not a lair."

"You know about wolves boy?"

"Yes I do."

I've known wolves, when I was younger. I met them on hunts, going out with my grandfather, tracking them, killing them. My grandfather was afraid of wolves, hated them for it, and made it his business to punish every one he met. They were something else to him, darkness, death or fear, all the worst things he was, he saw in them, which none of them deserved. He took money to kill them some of the time, like his father did before him, an Argent family tradition and made it his mission the rest of the time. My mother was the first Argent to refuse to participate in what she called massacres.

"The wolf is the only animal who'll avenge his brother." she'd say and leave me to wonder what she meant.

I've watched wolves, tracked them, met them eye to eye in the woods, and a wolf will never do what these two just did to me. So I did something to be dragged away like that, I think. I've never seen a wolf go out of his way to make sure not to hurt his prey and drag it to their den alive. But I've heard stories. Every hunter has stories. Maybe they smelled wolf on me, from years ago, maybe they smelled my grandfather.

"What the fuck happened? They just jumped on you?" Matt asks.

I don't know any more than he does.

"I must have pissed them off." I say.

"Yeah, but they didn't bite you, they just tried to drag you towards the woods." Matt notes.

"More than likely they won't bother us again." I tell them.

They all look at me but none of them really believes it.

"They are probably short on females and mistaken Stiles for a girl." Dave jokes.

Then all of them are laughing their asses off, except me, because those wolves, will be back.

To be continued …

* * *

Story based on the short story Ghost Walker by Ian MacKenzie Jeffers.

English is not my first language and I do not have a beta so feel free to correct any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes I might have made.

Please take the time to share your thoughts.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	2. Chapter 2

Dear readers,

I have to apologize for not updating all my stories including this one like I promised several weeks ago. Real life prevented me from keeping my promise. I give you an update to my Plane Crash story today and I'm already working on a new chapter for each of my other stories including this one + a first chapter on an exciting new story. Next week will bring 3 updates and 1 new story.

I would also like your opinion on my writing style. Chapter 1 of this story has been written in first person point of view and chapter 2 in the main character's point of view. Both are Stiles of course but I would like you to tell me the writing style you prefer.

Thank you in advance,

Saskia

* * *

Chapter 2

The wind is blowing through the wreckage, pieces of broken metal and plastic flap back and forth, waking Stiles from slumber. The fire's out, Dave is sleeping on the snow next to him. Stiles looks to see if he is frozen to death or just sleeping. Dave is alive. A miracle, because letting the fire go out was stupid enough to kill all of them.

Stiles's eyes are burning from frost and wind. He looks out across the snow. No wolves, which is what he was looking for, feeling like a fool because he knows he's afraid.

Stiles gets up, shakes Dave and the two other men, Sam and Liam, who he met yesterday when arriving at the wreckage, because sleeping in the cold too long, they'll just die. Dave stands up, walks into the tube to wake up the wounded. He puts his hand on the woman with the missing leg, touches her face.

"She's dead!" Dave yells.

"Check the others." Stiles commands.

All of them dead. Too far from the fire, not enough blankets, wounded, they never had a chance.

"We should move the bodies outside."

Nobody wants to pick up the dead, but we don't want to spend the night with them, either. We carry them out one by one, as gently as we can, past the dead fire, out to the snow.

Tracks, paws, all around us. Stiles looks back over to the plane, measuring the distance. The wolves had gotten close. He sees brown spots all over. The wolves marked their territory. Stiles takes a few steps up the hill, and can see a little further. He sees blood. It doesn't look like it's from any of the dead they brought out, they didn't drag them, they carried them. Stiles looks back at the plane again, nothing moving, just Dave standing by the opening, watching him, anxious.

Stiles walks out to the blood, trying to figure out what he is seeing, then he sees Matt, all ripped to pieces. Matt came out to pee in the night and this is what happened to him. What an idiot, to come this far out.

Sam and Liam walk towards Stiles, followed by Dave. They all stare at Matt. He was a big guy, strong, and he looks like very little, right now.

"They fucking ate him?" Dave asks.

Stiles looks at the dead body again.

"They weren't eating him." Stiles says. "Just killing him."

Stiles wishes he spoke the language, or understood the rules, but it isn't complicated, the wolves want them all dead, or gone.

"They pissed all over this place. They mean to have it." Stiles says. "They don't want us here."

A wolf can kill a bear, or a mountain lion, if they're too near his den. He won't eat those either, he just doesn't want them around.

"I've lived in Alaska all my life and have never seen a wolf paw-print this big." Dave is looking at the snow, the paw-prints.

"What do we do now?" he asks.

"Get the fuck out." Stiles answers.

Sam looks across the clearing.

"Maybe we should stay here." Sam says. "The rescue team will be here soon, looking for us near the wreckage."

Liam nods. They both look scared.

"With the short amount of daylight, the massive amount of ground to cover , the plane being off-course when we came down, all they're going to find, if they ever finally find us, is a wreck and dead bodies including ours." Stiles all but yells, losing his patience.

Nobody says anything. Most of them nod. Like there are a lot of fucking alternatives.

"The plane is shelter though." Liam says.

"It is." Stiles nods. "But we'll die in it before anybody comes."

* * *

We split into watches to keep the fire going. Dave finally falls asleep, but neither he nor Sam or Liam seem to sleep for long. Stiles tends the fire and watches them wake up in shifts, lie there, scared of dying, cold, starving, wolves. Sam sleeps as near the fire as he can without setting himself ablaze.

Before long Stiles sees them, wolves. Dave looks out, trying to see what Stiles is looking at, he kicks Liam and Sam. We're all standing, stone-still, staring at the same moving shadows in the snow. Nobody says anything.

The wolves circle closer, watching. One of them steps forward, black fur, much bigger than the others, the alpha. He sits, staring at Stiles, 6 yards out maybe, a little glow from the fire reaching him. The other wolves stop circling, spread out next to the alpha, sit down too, all staring at Stiles, minutes pass, Stiles's heart has forgotten how to beat and his legs have gone completely numb.

Stiles doesn't mean to do it but he finds himself staring back at the alpha. The wolf snarls, gets up and trots off, just like that, the other wolves get up and follow the alpha's lead, toward the trees where they came from, disappearing in the night.

The guys look at each other, at Stiles.

"What the fuck were they doing?" Liam asks.

Stiles is still looking at the clearing, watching to see if the wolves are circling back.

"They're curious." Stiles shrugs. "We're on their turf."

This seems to make sense to everyone, but somehow they keep looking at Stiles with questions in their eyes.

"The big one was staring at you." Dave notes.

"Did you see his big cock?" Sam asks. "He was just sitting there with a giant erect cock between his legs, staring at Stiles."

It would have been funny and Stiles would have laughed under different circumstances, like that one summer when all the monkeys in the zoo had shown Stiles their butts, Jackson made this bad gay joke about it and everyone was laughing.

"Some kind of wolf dominance behavior perhaps?" Dave suggests.

They all nod, except for Stiles, he has never seen a wolf show any signs of behavior resembling what just happened. Liam looks at Stiles.

"If we're on their turf, are they going to make us leave?"

"We're walking out tomorrow. That's all we need to think about." Stiles answers.

Everyone's thinking about going back inside the tube, but as safe as that seemed before, now no one wants to leave the fire, as if the fire gives us anything. Nobody sleeps, for a long time.

To be continued …

* * *

Notes

English is not my first language and I do not have a beta so feel free to correct any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes I might have made.

Please take the time to share your thoughts.

Thank You,

XX


	3. Chapter 3

They have been walking a long time, barely able to see the plane behind them but somehow the trees don't look any closer.

"Should we stop? Make a fire?" Dave asks.

Stiles doesn't know. He looks at the trees, tries to guess the distance.

"All we have to burn is the wood we took for protection."

They are standing between the safety of the plane and the darkness of the forest, feeling stranded, gone wrong already, Sam and Liam struggling to keep up, falling behind.

"What if they come at us?"

"Don't run. You can't outrun them and they like a good chase. Stand your ground, try to look big, make noise, run right at them, pray they decide you're not worth the risk." Stiles says. "They might let us slide if we make the trees."

"How much further are the fucking trees?" Dave looks up at Stiles, as if when they are in the trees they will be home free, which isn't what Stiles meant.

"I don't know. I misjudged the distance."

Dave looks at Stiles like he's a tour guide who doesn't know his job.

Then, like before, Stiles sees something, shadows moving in the dark, two from the right, four from the left, one from behind, coming at Liam. They don't seem interested in Sam. They've chosen Liam.

Stiles starts running, straight for Liam, but then shifts, heading for the one coming from the right, the one closest to Liam, waving his arms, shouting, trying to look like a threat. Liam looks at Stiles, sees him running, looks around. He sees the one from the right Stiles is charging at but he doesn't see the wolves from behind him, or the ones on the left. Sam stumbles backwards in terror when he sees the wolves closing in on Liam, stands there, frozen.

The one Stiles is charging at finally turns towards him so he has gained Liam ten seconds maybe, or five, and now Stiles has to keep charging at the one he has committed to.

"Get on the others! Go!" Stiles yells at Dave and Sam.

Liam doesn't have any fight in him, and one of the wolves bites at Liam's neck, the other wolves smell the blood and shoot at him like knives across the snow. Stiles can't see Liam under the massive pile of wolves but he still tries to get to him.

"Wait!" Dave yells. "To your side!"

Stiles looks around, and sees why Dave is shouting. The alpha wolf is there, charging at him, cutting him off. Stiles stops dead in his tracks, involuntary, from fear. Other wolves show up from nowhere to stand at the alpha's flanks, stopping Stiles or anybody else from getting to Liam.

Liam's quiet by now, not making any noise loud enough for Stiles to hear. Stiles is being forced to watch while Liam is being ripped to pieces.

Liam is dead, the first two wolves who hit him are walking away from the body, leaving the others, then one by one they all stop and stroll away, leaving a bloody mess in the snow. Stiles falls on his knees, beaten.

Stiles looks at Dave, terrified. The wolves look at them like somebody who's just hit you and is waiting to see if you got the point, if you're going to try and get up again, or if you understand who just hit you, and how hard.

The alpha wolf sits down, calmly, staring at Stiles. Not close enough for Stiles to reach out and grab him, or swing at him, if he was that brave. Stiles can't hear anything behind him, he doesn't know if Sam and Dave are still there, and he's afraid to look. Then the alpha gets up and charges at Stiles, straight across the snow, not taking his eyes off Stiles for a second.

Stiles just stares at him, afraid to do anything, waiting. Stiles remembers other wolves he had staring matches with, and he's never seen one look at him like this. This one hates every winter he's ever had, hates the fifty blood brawls he's fought because he's the biggest, and the meanest. The wolf bares his teeth, all out of his mouth for show. Stiles feels like the alpha is still deciding what he's going to do with him.

The alpha's eyes glow red as he leans in, trapping Stiles between his hard body and the snow. The wolf lowers his head, the tip of his wet nose barely brushing over Stiles's skin, down his cheek, behind his ear, to the corner of his jaw. The wet slide of a tongue licking Stiles's mouth, forcing it open and licking inside, wipes all thoughts from Stiles's mind.

Then the alpha turns, circles around, returns toward the dark from which he came, taking his beta's with him. The alpha looks back at Stiles, the head beta next to him, starts to howl, and all the other wolves join in, the alpha tilts his head back and howls too. Stiles still doesn't move, he just sits there, listening to the wolves howling, watching them fade into the dark, one by one, until the last one stops howling and Stiles can't see or hear them anymore.

Stiles is finally brave enough to stand up and look around at Dave and Sam, standing still, shocked, listening for paws in the snow. Stiles looks back to the trees where they were heading before the wolves came after Liam, and starts walking.

The others don't move at first, then they follow because they want to stick together. Stiles looks around in the dark, and he still can't see the wolves, he knows they might be standing there, waiting.

Stiles pulls his pack off, kneels down and gets the piece of wood out, feeling like an idiot for not having it ready before. Everybody else does the same. They head for the trees again, walking fast, making up the ground they lost going back to defend Liam, waiting every step for something else to come out of the dark, take another one of them. Sometimes wolves want the weakest, if they're hunting, and sometimes the strongest, if they're fighting. Stiles tries to act like neither.

After hours of not seeming any closer, they are finally in the trees. Stiles keeps rushing on blind, one arm in front, ramming into branches and trunks, falling into holes. They make their way forward, through the maze of dead and fallen trees. Stiles tries to hear if any of the wolves are coming in behind them, trees creak and crackle, everything sounds like wolf to him.

Stiles looks out to the clearing, he can't see anything but snow, and dark. There's nothing but wind, falling and tripping in the snow, huffing like cattle. Stiles doesn't know if it's smart or not, but he wants to rest.

"We should stop." Stiles whispers to Dave and Sam.

They drop packs, their pieces of wood, collapse in the snow.

"You think they're in here?" Dave asks.

"I don't know." Stiles answers.

They're freezing, but afraid to build a fire, in case it tells the wolves where they are. They rather stay in the dark and freeze, more scared than before, after what happened to Matt and Liam.

Afraid or not, Stiles knows they'll freeze sitting here. After a minute he gets up, starts collecting firewood.

"We want to do that?" Dave asks.

"They know where we are." Stiles says, because he has known that all along.

Dave and Sam turn to block the wind the best they can as Stiles lights the fire. They all find or drag pieces of wood to sit on instead of the snow.

Stiles is thinking about his mom and dad, which he has tried not to do, but here they are, around the fire with him. Long before she died, his mom had a dream that wolves took Stiles, dragged him off in the snow, claimed him as revenge for all the wolf lives lost at the hands of her family. The dream, or vision as she later called it, made it so Stiles never saw any of the Argent family ever again. When his father asked what happened to Stiles in the dream after the wolves dragged him through the snow, she refused to answer him. When Stiles asked her about it when he was older, his mother told him the black wolf would claim him. When Stiles asked her how, she got up, terrified, ran from his room and never spoke of it again. "Surrender and live or run and die!" She told Stiles on her death bed. A couple of days later she died. Stiles's father said she was delirious at the end and Stiles should not try to make sense of her last words.

Everybody sits, quiet, watching the dark and the fire. Stiles feels himself slipping, falling asleep.

Stiles looks up from the fire, wondering if he had fallen asleep, and how long. Sam and Dave are awake and talking about him.

"The wolves want him and they will kill both of us to get to him." Sam whispers

"Are you hearing yourself talk?" Dave asks.

"If you have any sense left, we give them what they want, we give them Stiles!"

To be continued …

* * *

Story based on the short story Ghost Walker by Ian MacKenzie Jeffers and the movie The Grey with Liam Neeson.

English is not my first language and I do not have a beta so feel free to correct any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes I might have made.

Please take the time to share your thoughts.

Thank You,

XX

Saskia


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The fire's down, the cold creeps into his body, from lying on the snow for too long. Stiles can see everyone's asleep. How they could possibly fall asleep when a thousand yards back, wolves were on them, Stiles doesn't know. It's an escape, maybe. What do you do after watching people die? Eventually you'll sleep again, it'll come.

Stiles doesn't know what to do about the conversation he overheard. He's not worried, Dave won't leave him and Sam isn't brave enough to venture out on his own. Sam might turn against him so Stiles needs to be ready. Great. Now he has to watch out for wolves and the man standing beside him, his supposed ally, the man watching his back.

As a young boy Stiles asked his mother why people behave as they do. She told him there was a wolf in the heart of all men, a wolf that drives them. "What will it make me do?" Stiles would ask her. "It depends on the wolf." she'd say.

Stiles tries not to dwell on the truth of Dave and Sam's conversation. He remembers fighting the wolves off, or trying to, but the beasts weren't interested in killing him, the wolves simply wanted to take him, and when Stiles thought they had him it felt like a cliff he didn't want to go off. He didn't want them to take what he didn't want to give.

Suddenly he feels they've stayed too long. Stiles knocks his boots together in the snow to clean the treads, like that's going to matter after two steps. He hauls himself to his feet, and reaches toward Dave, shaking him. Dave snaps awake, startled.

"I think we should keep moving, if we can." Stiles suggests.

Dave nods, shakes Sam, he wakes up and looks unhappy to see they're still here. Stiles pulls his pack on, as Sam gets to his feet, except Dave, who's struggling. Stiles bends down to help Dave up, then abruptly stops his movements.

The wolves are standing there, staring at them. Stiles didn't hear them come, they're just there. Sam sees me staring, looks, Dave too. The wolves are very close, at the edge of what's left of the firelight, looking at us.

"Shit." Dave says, still on the ground, fumbling for his knife, he can't find it. Dave is the only one moving, he keeps patting around in the snow trying to find his knife and finally he finds it behind him, he was almost sitting on it, and he half gets up and falls back down with it, point up.

"If they come at us, we fight them." Stiles whispers, staring at the wolves in front.

Stiles keeps looking for the big one, the Alpha, he doesn't see him. Stiles doesn't know what the other wolves are doing, sniffing, choosing one of them to kill or deciding to kill all of them at once, or just waiting for the Alpha. Finally the big wolf comes out of the dark, stands there, staring with the rest of them. The Alpha straightens his body, leans forward, makes a line, nose to back, pointing at Dave.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Sam asks.

"Choosing."

The big wolf looks from Dave to Sam, sniffing. Then he shifts, barely, pointing at Dave, again.

"Is he fucking looking at me? He's what, choosing me?"

"If they hit you, we'll get them off. You'll be ok." Stiles knows he is lying, but they can try.

All the wolves are looking at Dave now, which is turning Dave into jelly, he's panting, shaking, starting to scrabble backwards.

"Stay put." Stiles tells him.

"Oh Jesus. God, Jesus." Dave prays.

Dave jumps, flicks his eyes to a skinny wolf on his flank, gasping. Stiles didn't see that wolf before, but there it is, Dave yelps and half-shoves backwards, looking the wolf in the eye. The wolf looks right back at Dave, takes a step closer. Stiles half-turns to be ready, but he can't turn too far or he is showing his back to the others.

It doesn't matter. The wolf shoots in, rushing forward. Dave screams, holds his knife up, fumbling, actually half-keeping the wolf at bay, it stops.

We wait another second and then the wolf shoots in the rest of the way, jumps Dave, and all the other wolves, all but the big one, run around us and past us, shoot in at Dave too. Dave's eyes go wide, Stiles picks up his knife and charges after them, Sam does the same, hoping the big one doesn't charge up from behind.

The wolves have all jumped on Dave by now, putting their backs to Stiles and Sam, none of the wolves are turning, either they've counted them out, or they thought Stiles and Sam were going to let them take Dave.

Stiles starts roaring, knife high, and attacks one of the wolves, amazed to see the knife sink under the beast's fur. The wolf twists and snarls, turning away from Dave to see what just bit him. Stiles yanks the knife back out but stumbles back in the snow and drops his weapon. At least the wolf's off Dave. Stiles looks back, still down, scared, to see where the big one is and he's gone.

The wolf Stiles attacked runs to the side and into the dark, Stiles doesn't know where it is at all, running around to come at him another way, maybe. Stiles searches around in the snow for his knife as Sam is roaring and swinging his log at yet another wolf. Stiles grabs for the knife and scrambles back to his feet as he sees Sam ram his log into his next victim, hitting the wolf's side, hard.

Stiles looks for the Alpha again, fleeing wolves are running around him, up a rise, maybe the big one is with them, but Stiles loses them in the dark. Sam is pounding at the last two wolves on Dave, or trying to, one is jumping away from the knife, and runs up the slope into the dark as if nothing happened to him at all.

Sam, knife in hand, stabs the remaining wolf, the beast finally flinches and jumps off Dave, falls into the snow. The animal hunches and twists, but he doesn't get up, then he's still. Stiles stares at the wolf, he should be glad the animal is dead, but he's not. Stiles feels sick. The wolf's fur is wet, blood clinging to his coat, there's red in the snow now, and Stiles looks at the wolf and feels sick still, more, churning. Why? Stiles doesn't know.

The Alpha finally shows himself, looking down at them, from the rise, the others with him, staring. Stiles looks at Dave, who somehow is alive, still. He keeps gasping and looking at his middle where they were tearing at him and once again it is hard to believe he isn't dead.

"Yeah, you fuckers, fucking yeah!" Dave yells, which is surprising, from the sight of him, because they did get him pretty well, but he's whooping now, lying there. He tries to get up, but flops back again, still laughing.

Stiles looks up again. The wolves are still watching. The Alpha looks at him, staring, and then sudden as that he turns and strolls into the dark, and Stiles can't see him anymore, the others flow after him like smoke, they're gone. Stiles stares into the dark, they all do, waiting, looking around, but they can't see anything, or hear anything.

"Yeah! Fuck you, fuckers!" Sam yells and Dave smiles. Not really smiling, sort of shocked and beaten half-happy. Sam too.

Stiles approaches Dave and lifts his jacket, the shreds of it, his sweater, everything's soaked in blood, and Stiles can see he's all ripped, they got into him, Stiles doesn't know how they did so quick, get so much of him. Stiles knows he broke his promise, they got the wolves off, but they took too long. Stiles tells himself they got one, but it doesn't help Dave much. His legs are all ripped too, deep in the thigh. Stiles thought they'd have more chance to save him. Bad calculation.

"Is it bad?" Dave asks.

"You'll live." Stiles lies again. Sam stares at him.

Suddenly the wolves come out of the dark, again, just like that, they're there, the big one and the others, they were there all along, but they step in close enough for them to see, now. They start to circle, far out to their right and left, watching them, and then Stiles sees more behind them, on his flank.

Sam just starts running through the trees, like a maniac. It's one kind of chance if you're crazy enough to run toward them but it's no chance at all if you run when they're behind you, they'll hunt you down.

"Don't run!" Stiles yells out. "Don't fucking run!"

Sam isn't listening. The wolves are just watching, straining to take off after him, but not going, yet.

Suddenly Dave is on his feet, adrenaline probably, and starts trying to run Sam down before the wolves do. Stiles charges after Dave a few steps and stops, yelling "Don't!" but Dave keeps going, so now both of them are running through the trees, the wolves shooting across the snow at Sam and Dave, leaving Stiles behind, alone with the Alpha.

To be continued …


End file.
